


The Moscow Rules

by Aviator39



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Abandonment, Action/Adventure, Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Assissination(s), BAMF Original Female Character, Borrowing Aaron Cross From Bourne Legacy, Brainwashing, Child Murder, Conflicting Moral Code, Conspiracies, Dark Past, Death, Diplomacy, Does the Red Room count as Sci-Fi?, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enhanced Human, Excessive Use of Russian, F/M, False Memories, Families of Choice, Feels, Flashbacks, Foreign Languages, Friendship, Gaslighting, Gen, Gore, Government Agencies, Government Experimentation, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Guns, Hacking, Hand-To-Hand Combat, Human Experimentation, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I am an American, I know how my government actually runs, Implied Character Death, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It Needs to be Wiped Out, Kidnapping, Love, Matters of State, Maybe Slightly Sci-Fi?, Mentions of Actual Historical/Political Figures, Moral Ambiguity, Murder, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Tattooing, Original Female Character Inspired by Natasha Romanoff, Past Child Abuse, Pet Names, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness, Rape/Non-con Elements, Red Room Graduation Ceremony, Repressed Memories, Rogue Agent, Romance, Russia, Russian Politics, Scars, Seduction, Self-Sacrificing Character, Soviet Union, Spies, Subterfuge, Take Liberties with how the US Government Does Things and What They Allow, Tatianna Goes By Natalie for a lot of the story, Tatianna Needs A Hug, Terrorism, The CIA - Freeform, The Red Room - Concept, The Red Room is its own warning, Thriller, Torture, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Use of Alliases, Use of Show Scripts to Fill Plot, Violence, Winter Soldier Alexei Shostakov, aftermath of mind control, child deaths, don't hate me, injuries, red in the ledger, touch starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 09:53:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11033766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviator39/pseuds/Aviator39
Summary: I am one of 28 young ballerinas with the Bolshoi. The training is hard. But the glory of Soviet culture -- And the warmth of my parents --I am one of 28 Black Widow agents with the Red Room. The training is hard. But the glory of Soviet supremacy -- And the warmth of my parents --No. No. That's not right.---Alexei helped her escape the Red Room and paid with his life. She is trained to be the world's deadliest assassin. Her past is dark and her ledger soaked in red.Tatiana Alianovna Ostrova has long awaited the day she truly begin to wipe out the red in her ledger.Living and working under the alias of Natalie Rushman, she's been working for the CIA since Elizabeth was an analyst there. Her fabricated past is carefully maintained, along with other aliases.The file the CIA has on her says her age is 16, but in truth she stopped counting after the Red Room had told her she'd turned 16 - back in 1932...Requested by Secretary McCord to be added to her staff, Tatiana realizes Elizabeth has the chance to truly bring about change in the world.This is her start to wiping her ledger clean.She will protect the McCords.Whatever the cost.





	The Moscow Rules

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING(S): Child death, mentions of blood and violence.

**THE MOSCOW RULES**

_1: Assume nothing. 2: Never go against your gut. 3: Everyone is potentially under opposition control. 4: Don’t look back; you are never completely alone. 5: Go with the flow, blend in. 6: Vary your pattern and stay within your cover. 7: Lull them into a sense of complacency. 8: Don’t harass the opposition. 9: Pick the time and place for action. 10: Keep your options open._

* * *

  ** _LOCATION: RUSSIA – UNKNOWN DATE_**

**_UNKNOWN BLACK SITE_ **

**_SIBERIAN FOREST_ **

_A ring of young girls dressed in thin, white tank tops emblazoned with a single red star in the center and black shorts, their feet bare and exposed to the snow on the ground._

_Two instructors dressed in black, nondescript military uniforms looked on. The man had slicked back, greying hair. His expression was stern, slightly sunken green eyes watched impassively. The woman was blonde, her long hair pulled back in a severe bun, her red lips twisted in a satisfied smirk as she watched the fight going on._

_A blood-red ponytail slashed through the hair as its owner spun through the air, delivering a powerful kick to her opponent’s chest._

_The other girl, a skinny but muscular brunette flew backwards, landing in the snow and sliding a few feet, her braided pigtails whipping around her face as she launched herself to her feet._

_She rushed the crimson haired girl, body slamming her to the snow-covered pavement._

_They grappled for several moments before the girl with blood-red hair broke away, dragging the other girl with her, strong arms wrapped around the girl’s neck it a tight headlock._

_Her blood-red ponytail trembled as her arms remained locked around the brunette’s head. Not five hours ago, she’d shared a stolen piece of bread with that girl after they’d been unlocked from their beds in the early hours of the morning._

_She looked to the two instructors, who gave her a sharp nod. Though they were proud of their star pupil, their features betrayed nothing._

_The crimson haired girl, waited a few moments, allowing the brunette a few more seconds of futile struggle. Her hands moved quickly into position before a sharp crack filled the air and the brunette dropped dead, neck twisted an at unnatural angle.  
_

* * *

**LOCATION: WASHINGTON D.C. – 2015**

**THE WHITE HOUSE**

Senator gates had just been ushered from the room, his aide looking embarrassed and highly apologetic.

“What the hell?” Russell whispered sharply.

The aide wrung her hands. “Senator Gates has a series of mini strokes a few months ago, but we are working diligently to get him through his final term.” She paused. “He has his good days and his bad days.”

Russell gave her an incredulous look. “But basically, he’s incompetent?” He questioned.

“To take the oath of office for President?” The aide countered. “Probably.”

Russell gave a long pause. “Then...I think we have to go to the next in line.”

The National Security Advisor looked around, before his gaze settled on Elizabeth. “That would be the Secretary of State.”

Stepping forward, the Chief Justice held out a copy of the Bible in one hand as he faced a slightly stunned looking Elizabeth. “Madam Secretary, if you will place your left hand on the Bible and raise you right hand.” He paused as Elizabeth did as he instructed. “Repeat after me.”

“I, Elizabeth Adams McCord, do solemnly swear...”

Elizabeth swallowed. “I, Elizabeth Adams McCord, do solemnly swear...”

“That I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States...”

“That I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States...”

“And will, to the best of my ability...”

“And will, to the best of my ability...”

“Preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

“...Preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.” Elizabeth inhaled shakily, smoothing down the lapels of her jacket.

The Chief Justice gave Elizabeth a tight smile. “Good luck, ma’am.” He said.

“Thank you.” Elizabeth sighed.

* * *

**LOCATION: GEORGETOWN – THE MCCORD HOUSE – 2015**

**POST TRANS-PACIFIC TRADE PARTNERSHIP GALA**

**WASHINGTON D.C.**

The McCord’s listened as their front door opened. “Goodnight, you guys.” Elizabeth called out, heels clicking on the hardwood floors.

“There she is.” Henry smiled from his place on the couch, squished between Allison and Jason.

Allison sprang up from the couch. “Aah! Oh my God, you were President?” She asked excitedly. “How could you not tell us?”

“Slipped my mind.” Elizabeth joked, wrapping Allison in a one-armed hug.

Jason tipped his head back, looking at his mom from over the back of the couch. “Seriously, what was that like?” He asked.

“It was exhausting.”

“Well, forget that.” Henry said. “What was the song like?”

“I’ll tell you about it later.” Elizabeth stated. “How did it go with...”

“Great.” Henry stated.

“Okay, good.”

Elizabeth sighed, starting to climb the stairs. “Listen, I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed.” She leaned back, gesturing to Jason. “Jace, tell your teacher you’re getting an ‘A’.”

“Goodnight.” Allison chimed in.

“Erica James is coming home.” Her phone beeped.

“No.” Henry said incredulously.

Elizabeth groaned. “Yes.”

* * *

  **LOCATION: THE WHITE HOUSE – 2015**

**THE OFFICE OF RUSSELL JACKSON**

**WASHINGTON D.C.**

“Sorry.” Russell said. “I know you’ve had a rough day.”

Elizabeth took a couple steps forward. “Well, we all have.”

Russell nodded, packing up the files he had spread out on the table. “But you need to be up to speed on the situation. We got the test results back on the Vice President.” He paused. “No foul play. He’s fine.”

“That can’t be why you called me in.” Elizabeth stated, wishing she could get out of her heels.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Come in.” Russel called out. “Elizabeth, you know Craig Sterling.”

“Madam Secretary.” Sterling intoned. “It’s been a few years.”

Elizabeth smiled, but she knew it didn’t look entirely genuine. “Congratulations on your appointment.”

Sterling huffed a soft laugh. “Pretty sure I wasn’t the first on your list.”

“Why don’t you tell Elizabeth what we know about Air Force One so far.” Russel suggested, looking between the two.

“The system malfunction wasn’t a solar flare.” Sterling stated gravely. “They found a piece of malware on the plane. An incredibly sophisticated virus that knocked out every communication device.”

Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide, one hand coming up to covering her mouth briefly. “This took planning, resources and engineering.” She licked her lips. “It couldn’t have been the work of a single actor. There had to be a major power behind it.” Her inhale was shaky. “This was an act of war.”

* * *

  ** _LOCATION: RUSSIA – UNKNOWN DATE_**

**_UNKNOWN BLACK SITE_ **

**_SIBERIAN FOREST_ **

_The girl with blood-red hair shot out of bed as the door to her spartan room slammed open and her mentor, Major Alexei Shostakov strode in, steps hurried._

_“Odevat’sya! (Get dressed!)” He barked after unlocking the handcuff from around her wrist, tossing her non-descript, black uniform at her. “Toropit’sya! (Hurry!)”_

_The girl scrambled to do as he asked, yanking the clothing on and stuffing her feet into the pair of combat boots shoved into her hands._

_“Chto prosiskhodit? (What is going on?)” She asked. “Aleksey, chto proiskhodit? (Alexei, what is going on?)”_

_Alexei barely spared her a glance, his fringe falling into his eyes as he hurriedly stuffed her extra uniforms, passport, weapons and what appeared to be a copy of her file - unredacted -  into the only small, black backpack she owned._

_“Ya vytashchu tebya otsyuda. (I am getting you out of here.)” He hissed, forcing her arms through the straps of the backpack. “Prezhde chem oni smogut podumat’ o chem-to yeshche, chtoby sdelat’s toboy. (Before they can think of something else to do to you.)”_

_He was obviously thinking about the graduation ceremony that had followed her winning the fight against the last girl standing in the way of her title – the Black Widow. How he had held her down alongside the other instructors as the head doctor had sterilized her._

_She paced up to him, taking his face in her hands and making him face her. “Mne bol’she nechego delat’. (There is nothing more they can do to me.)” Her voice was flat. “Oni vzyali moi vospominaniya, moyu zhizn’, moyu nezavisimost’ i svoye chrevo. (They took my memories, my life, my independence and my womb.)”_

_“No vy vse yeshche dumayete diya sebya, net?_ _(But you still think for yourself, no?)” Alexei questioned sharply._

_“V osnovnom. (Mostly.)” She replied as he took her hand and began to all but drag her through the dull, concrete corridors of the compound. “Kuda my idem? (Where are we going?)” Her voice was low and carefully modulated, their footsteps near silent on the brushed, metal floor._

_Alexei spared her a glance before shoving her forward to the ladder that led to the above ground levels of the sprawling compound. “Karabkat’sya. (Climb.)” He ordered and she did so, blood-red hair trembling as she climbed through the hatch at the top of the ladder._

_Her wide blue eyes darted in every direction as she waited for Alexei to climb through, her posture relaxing only slightly when he did._

_“Pochemu nas nikto ne ostanovil?_ _(Why has nobody stopped us?) She whispered sharply as Alexei grabbed her hand and began pulling her along through the bright, white hallways. “Eto ne imeyet smysla! (This doesn’t make sense!)”_

_As if by some sick twist of fate, the sound of pounding footsteps reached their ears and Alexei quickened his pace, dragging the girl along behind him._

_They skidded sharply around a corner, only to be met by two burly guards. They were quickly dispatched by Alexei, their blood spraying the walls and floor as the Major’s knife flashed through in the harsh fluorescent light._

_The heavy, metal double doors leading to the outside world loomed in front of them, the red star emblazoned on them striking against their weathered surface._

_Alexei slowed his pace when they reached the doors, listening to the pounding footsteps grow louder._

_He cupped the girl’s face in his calloused hands. “Tat’yana Aliana Ostrovna, vy yedinstvennaya nadezhda nashey strany na luchesheye I svetloye budushceye. (Tatianna Alianova Ostrov, you are our nation’s only hope for a brighter and fairer future.)” Alexei pressed a desperate kiss to her full lips, not giving her a chance to return it. “Nadeyus’, odnashdy vy naydete kogoto, dostoynogo vashey zashchity. (I hope, one day, you find someone worthy of your protection.)”_

_“Aleksey... (Alexei...)” Tatianna breathed, eyes wide as the hallway behind them became filled with guards._

_Alexei spared them a hurried glance, drawing his favored knives. “Pomni menya, moya malen’kaya volchitsa. (Remember me, my little she wolf.)” He whispered, wrenching open one of the metal doors, allowing the bitter, winter air to rush in. “Teper’ idi! (Now go!)"_

_He shoved her forward as he was yanked away, blood spraying across her face as he slashed the throat of one guard._

_“Aleksey! (Alexei!)” Tatianna screamed as his blood mixed with the guard’s on her pale face as a bullet ripped through him from behind._

_Wild, whiskey brown eyes found blue ones as he struggled. “Idti! Beg! (Go! Run!)” Alexei shouted as he was dragged away._

_Tatianna turned, tears mixing with blood as they flowed down her cheeks and slipped through the opening in the double doors._

_She yanked the massive door shut, the boom it closed with punctuated by muffled gunshots from within the compound._

_“Prosti menya. (Forgive me.)” Tatianna murmured to the frozen landscape as she began her long trek to civilization._

* * *

 

**LOCATION: GEORGETOWN – THE MCCORD HOUSE – 2015**

**WASHINGTON D.C.**

The news played in the background as the McCord family went about their morning routines.

[Gone MIA. Where in the world is Russian President Pavel Ostrov? The mecurial leader has not been seen in public for a week now, leading to speculation of a secret tummy tuck, to a rendezvous in Gstaad for the birth of his love child, to a bloody coup...]

“I’m going with tummy tuck.” Jace commented.

“Vanity. That’s always a good option.” Henry added as he walked into the kitchen, a file folder in hand.

Stevie smirked, walking over to place her dishes in the sink. “Didn’t you go hunting with him, Dad?” She asked, looking at her father.

“Yeah.” Henry scoffed a laugh. “Maybe a Siberian tiger got him.”

Jason stifled a laugh as Elizabeth came downstairs. “Yeah, or maybe the Russian Air Force One went missing.” Elizabeth sucked in a breath between her teeth, giving her youngest a pointed look. “Too soon?”

“Let’s give it a year.”

Allison rose from the table, walking over into the kitchen area. “So, what do you think of Ostrov, Mom?” She queried. “Something salacious?”

Elizabeth sighed softly, filling her travel mug with coffee. “I think that dictators do whatever the hell they want...and like it when the world worries.” She answered, slipping her glasses on.

“Well, I’m sure your buddy, the Russian foreign minister guy, knows.” Jason interjected.

Stevie grabbed an apple from the bowl on the island. “Maybe Mom knows and she can’t tell us.”

“Oooh, you really think she’s that good a liar?” Allison asked, shrugging on her coat.

“She lies for a living.”

Elizabeth pulled open the fridge, retrieving the milk for her coffee. “Oh...not true.” She poured some milk in her mug. “I’m starting to feel a little attacked.”

Allison swung her backpack onto one shoulder. “Then it’s a good thing we have a peer mediator in the family.” She gestured with her multicolored staff. “Talking stick, anyone? Same one I’ve used to settle many a disagreement at school.”

“Okay,” Jason reached over, taking the staff. “You’re a loser.” He grinned mockingly. “Hey, it works.”

“Yeah, it does.” Allison retorted, taking back the staff. “Just not on the brain dead.”

Henry waved his hands towards the front door as Elizabeth put the milk away. “Okay, you guys, go to school, please.” He gave Allison and Jason a pointed look. “Get out.”

“You’re so lucky I’m still driving you.” Allison grumbled as she and Jason headed for the front door.

Henry leaned against the counter, shaking his head fondly. “So, is it true you’ve asked for a new member to be added to your staff?” He asked, taking a swallow of his coffee. “Kind of late in the game to be adding new players, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” Elizabeth stopped, screwing the lid to her travel mug on. “She’s young, that’s true. But I did work with her on a couple occasions when I was at the Agency.” She paused. “She’s smart, brilliant actually – a bit of a prodigy, if you ask me, given her age. I think she’s exactly what my team needs.”

“And, it doesn’t hurt that she’s basically an assassin who can take care of herself.” Henry added, not bothering to hide the amused quirk in his lips.

“Yeah, no, that doesn’t hurt either.”

* * *

 

**LOCATION: RUSSIA – 2015**

**SOLENSKI PLAZA – 3 RD FLOOR**

“Eto ne to, kak yak hotel segodnya vecherom poyti. (This is not how I wanted this evening to go.)” The General murmured, shaking his head disapprovingly as he gazed down at the crimson haired young woman in disapproval.

She wore a short black dress that highlighted her cleavage and dark, sheer stockings. Her heels had been tossed aside, making it difficult for her to find purchase on the floor when they’d occasionally tip the wooden chair she was tied to, back over a hole in the floor that plummeted the full ten stories of the unfinished hotel.

“Ya znayu, kak ty khotel, chtoby eta noch’ proshia. (I know how you wanted this night to go.)” The young woman muttered, blue eyes evaluating as her gaze shifted between the General and his two thugs. “Pover’te mne, eto luchshe. (Believe me, this is better.)”

The General scowled, gesturing to the larger of the two thugs. “Yeshche raz! (Again!)” He ordered.

The thug raised his hand, bringing it down in a teeth-clacking backhand that snapped the girl’s head to the right. He shook his hand out before taking a hold of the back of the chair and tipping it back, balancing it on its back legs over the hole.

“Na kogo vy rabotayete? (Who do you work for?)” The General asked as the girl turned her head to face him, shaking it to get some of her crimson hair out of her eyes, tongue poking at her newly split lip. “Lermontov, da? (Lermontov, yes?)” He asked, striding forward, his uniform still immaculate. “On deystvitel’no dumayet, chto my proydem cherez nego, chtoby peremestit’ nashi tanki? (Does he really think that we’ll go through him to move our tanks?)”

The girl gave him a confused look, this was the opening she needed.

“Ya dumal, chto general Doroshevich otvechayet za gruz? (I thought General Doroshevich was in charge of the cargo?)” She asked, pretending to sound genuinely confused.

The General scoffed. “Doroshevich? Meshokshchik. (Doroshevich? A bagman.)” He laughed. “A front, as the American’s say.”

He went to say more, but was interrupted by the girl’s confiscated phone ringing. The smaller thug answered it.

He looked to the General. “It’s for you.”

Handing the phone to the General, the older man pressed it to his ear. “You listen here...” He growled.

A man on the other end of the line began to speak and the girl rolled her eyes. Of course her handler had to call now.

“You’re at 114 Solenski Plaza, 3rd Floor. We have a F22 exactly 4 miles out.” The man on the phone stated. “Put the girl on the phone, or I’ll blow up the block before you make the lobby.”

The General pulled the phone away from his ear, tucking it against the girl’s who holds it steady with her shoulder, hands still tied behind the back of the wooden chair.

“We need you to come in.”

“Are you kidding me?” The girl asked incredulously, slipping back into her normal, American accent. “I’m working!”

“This takes precedence.”

The girl ground her teeth together. “I’m in the middle of an interrogation and this moron is giving me everything.”

The General glanced at his two thugs. “I don’t give...everything.” He defended and the girl gave him a dubious look.

“Look, you can’t pull me out of this right now.”

“Natalie, the Secretary of State has requested you personally be added to her staff.”

The girl paused. In the larger scheme of things - things her handler didn’t know about - and would never know about, she’d been waiting for an opportunity to get close to the Secretary for a while now.

And this was the perfect opportunity.

She sighed. “Let me put you on hold.”

Gesturing for the General to take the phone the older man stepped forward. As he reached to take the device, the girl slammed her foot into his shin, head butting him on the way down. He rolled to the side, dazed. The cell face down next to him, still connected to her handler.

Launching herself upwards, she kicked back the smaller thug as he came at her, slamming the bigger thug down using the chair legs.

She rolled, grabbing up the pistol the smaller thug had dropped with her bound hands, before turning her back to face him and slamming the back of her head into his nose.

She sat down then, driving the end of one chair leg into the top of his foot, making him wail, and then slamming her head back again. His nose broke with a satisfying crunch.

Twisting, she smacked him with the chair again, leaving him lying there for now.

Her leg snapped out, foot colliding with the larger thug’s knee and it gave a sickening pop. Propelling herself upwards, she flipped around in midair and brought her full weight, plus the chair down on top of him.

The chair broke apart, knocking him out.

The smaller thug, having somewhat recovered came at her, but she was quicker, grabbing his outstretched hand and wrenching the fingers painfully backwards. He yelled in pain as she spun herself around, locked her legs around his head and flipped him over, slamming him to the concrete floor.

Reaching for the hooked chain that had been hanging overhead, she knocked the General in the head with the hook, disorienting him as she wrapped it around his ankle before pushing him out into the hole in the floor.

He fell rapidly before his hip, knee and ankle gave a sickening pop as he jerked to a sudden stop, the chain length having reached its end.

Sighing in annoyance, the girl picked up her discarded phone. “Why does the Secretary of State want me?” She asked, tucking her newly appropriated pistol into the hidden holster strapped to her thigh. “I only worked with her a couple times when she was at the Agency.”

“It’s above my clearance level. All I know is that she requested you personally.” Her handler replied. “Your time at the Agency is done. You’re State’s problem now.” He paused. “I have you booked on the next plane out.”

“Well, I’m going to miss you Jack.” The girl said as she picked up her heels and began walking towards the staircase of the abandoned hotel.

Her handler snorted. “No you won’t, Natalie.” He said. “There’s one other thing I think I should mention.”

“And what’s that?” Natalie asked, her stockinged feet padded softly across the concrete floor.

“Since you’re still under the legal age requirement to be working for a government agency, and since it took special consideration for you to work for us,” Her handler was stalling.

“Just...get to the point, Jack.” Natalie prompted. “I can take it.”

Her handler sighed. “You’re going to be living with the Secretary.” He blurted out finally.

Natalie stopped in her tracks, toes hanging over the edge of the first step.

“Svyataya korova. (Holy cow.)”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review :) Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames will be deleted.


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